


Sweeter than Cake

by die-forellex (heatinfreezing)



Series: What Remains [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Smut, Sweet, rivamikaevents, smutmas 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 18:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12894231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heatinfreezing/pseuds/die-forellex
Summary: Levi never acknowledges his birthday but Mikasa is determined to do something special for him. For rivamika smutmas month 2017!





	Sweeter than Cake

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Remember how I promised all of you some extra things in Surviving Peace’s verse? Well, here it is! It’s not Levi’s PoV, but it’s some sweet, domestic fluff with our favorite family (and some smut for RivaMika, huhuhu!!) I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Rivamika Smutmas 2017
> 
> Prompt: Cooking

********Mikasa adds more powdered sugar for a third time to the mushy bowl of butter, her hand clenching the whisk tensely as she beats the sides of the bowl.

It doesn’t make any sense. She’s followed the instructions Sasha wrote down to the letter, and this frosting still isn’t coming together. Sasha’s frostings are light, airy, clouds of butter, cream and sugar lovingly spread over perfect looking round cakes.

Mikasa glances over at her lopsided vanilla cake and she can’t help but feel mocked by its very existence.

Still, she wanted to surprise Levi for his birthday.

He turns forty-eight today. She’s positive that he’s hoping she will forget, that he hates to make a fuss of his birthday despite the fact that he always manages to do something nice for her on her’s. Last year he’d even gotten her fresh cut flowers, a true luxury considering her birthday is in the dead of winter. The excessiveness of it had bothered her at the time but the exotic, fragrant smelling lilies had brought sunshine and springtime during a long, dark winter.

So she got the brilliant idea that she was going to bake a cake for the all of them to enjoy.

Jacob is in on it, she’d told him to keep Levi busy for the afternoon as she attempts to bake so it could be a surprise. So, Jacob being the clever boy he is, insisted to his father that he and Elise were suddenly interested in snowshoeing. 

Mikasa is a decent cook. She can make a few dinners confidently, even deviate a bit from a recipe and add to it. But she failed to understand that baking is another endeavor entirely.

Her father had been good at baking. Every year she’d had a birthday cake made with maple sugar. Her father would spend weeks tapping the maple tree outside of their home, all for a tiny handful of sugar used in her Winter birthday cake.

Looking back on it makes her feel loved. She knows that she could’ve simply asked Sasha to make a cake, but she wants to try it for herself.

Because she’s certain no one has made Levi a birthday cake before, and she wants to be the one who makes it for him.

The layers nearly break as she stacks them atop one another and the frosting is gooey and glue-like. When she’s finished, she’s confronted with perhaps the ugliest cake she has ever seen.

_Hopefully it still tastes good._

She hears the front door open and soon after the voice of her son.

“Mom! We’re home!”

She quickly washes her hands and tries to straighten out her appearance because baking has left her with flour on her clothes and hair.

She hides the cake in the pantry as quickly as she can before they both come into the kitchen.

“How was snowshoeing?” she asks lightly.

“It was great! Dad knows all these secret trails that even me and Elise don’t know about!” Jacob proclaims proudly.

Mikasa smiles and hugs him close.

“Brr, you’re cold!” she rubs her warm hands on his reddened cheeks affectionately, “we’ll have to warm you two up!”

Mikasa looks at Levi and feels a familiar rush of contentment at his presence. He looks tired and a little wet with melting snow, but overall pleased. Even if he complains Mikasa knows he’d do anything to see Jacob glad.

Levi is a good father despite the fact that he never had one of his own. He isn’t overly affectionate, he doesn’t hug and kiss his son frequently the way Connie does his many children. He doesn’t go into town and buy elaborate train sets that Jacob’s classmates enjoy. But Levi spends time with him. Teaches him to ride horses, helps him with arithmetic patiently (even though Jacob struggles), and most importantly of all, Levi listens to him. Listens to him talk about school, listens to him talk about his adventures in the woods with Elise Springer, no matter how many times he’s heard the same story.

Mikasa intentionally made a simple dinner, brisket baked all afternoon in the oven and potatoes. Jacob speaks endlessly about their day, how they’d seen at least a dozen hares, three deer and even a large black bear.

“I’m surprised you didn’t scare them all away with all your talk,” Mikasa says wryly.

“I can be quiet when I need to be Mom!” Jacob huffs.

Levi scoffs. “Between you and Elise I’m surprised all of the birds didn’t take to the sky.”

Jacob frowns and Mikasa laughs at his expense.

“Well you’re grumpy,” Jacob accuses half-heartedly.

Levi smirks a little.

“I’ve never debated that point, now help clean up the dishes,” he says lightly.

Jacob drags his feet while he stacks the dinner plates into the sink. Mikasa washes them and hands them to Jacob for drying while Levi tends to the horses for the evening.

“Mom, did you get the cake done?”

“Yes, all thanks to you! We’ll surprise him when he comes in!”

When she shows Jacob the cake, he winces.

“It….doesn’t look like Mrs. Springer’s cake,” he says warily and Mikasa frowns and feels her cheeks warm.

“That’s because it’s not her cake, it’s my cake,” she says a little tersely.

Jacob doesn’t say anything but eyes the cake apprehensively.

_Goddamn it._

She sets the ugly little cake on the table and nervously works on her current embroidery project – flowers on the collar of a woman’s blouse – for Connie’s store.

The sun has set by the time Levi comes in from taking care of the horses. Jacob sets down his comic and rushes to his father excitedly.

“Mom has a surprise for you,” he drags him by the hand to the dinner table. Mikasa sets her embroidery aside and apprehensively stands by the dinner table next to her lopsided labor of love.

Levi glances from her to the cake, eyes widening a fraction at the cake.

“Happy Birthday,” she says shortly.

“Did you make this?” He asks after a moment.

Mikasa shrugs in response, somehow flustered enough about the display that it’s difficult to elaborate.

She watches him struggle a little with how to react, but then he smiles and grabs her hand tenderly.

“Thank you,” is all he says.

All of her worry about the cake somehow seems worthwhile with his words. Even if it tastes like cement she knows that she’s made him happy with the gesture.

They slice the cake and, despite how ugly it is, it’s entirely edible and, as Jacob so eloquently states, “even kind of good!”

“It’s well past your bedtime, dessert is keeping you up too late,” Mikasa says sternly at her son’s backhanded compliment. Jacob drags his feet as he gets ready for bed, stalling all the way up to when she and Levi tuck him into bed and say goodnight.

Levi turns on the wireless radio and she opens a bottle of wine she’d picked up from town. Something nice, better than the questionable dandelion wine she and Sasha make at the end of summer.

“Happy birthday Levi,” she says sincerely as she sits down next to him on the sofa.

“You didn’t have to go through all of this trouble for my birthday,” he grumbles. She rolls her eyes.

“If I can’t do something for you on your birthday then you don’t get to buy me a present ever again,” she says shortly.

He rolls his eyes but leaves it be, taking a sip of his wine and putting his feet on the ottoman next to the crackling fireplace.

She curls herself up next to him quietly, leans her head on his shoulder while they listen to the radio show, chuckling at the jokes and making fun of the announcer here and there, but Mikasa’s mind is on her other birthday gift.

When the show ends and her head is buzzing slightly from her second glass of wine, she tells him she has another surprise for him.

“You really didn’t have to do anything,” he insists.

“I know I didn’t, I wanted to,” she says softly. “Wait here and come upstairs when I tell you to,” she insists.

“Fine, fine,” he says, “but let me brush my teeth before bed.”

She goes up the stairs to their bedroom in the attic and opens the box she’s hidden for the last two weeks.

It’d taken over a month to have this made for her, the fine, silky material imported from a faraway land and lace stitched from thread of the same kind. It’s softer and prettier than the usual satin she’s accustomed to.

It’s a soft, feminine pink brassiere accented with black lace that pushes up her modest bust and a set of barely there lace panties that, if she’s honest, make her ass look fantastic.

She puts on her usual robe and ties it around her waist, but not before dimming the lamp to what she thinks is something of a romantic glow.

Mikasa is surprised she’s developed a sense for these things. She used to prefer spontaneity, ripping off his clothes in a fevered haze of lust and even aggression. They still do that on occasion, but things have changed over the years. Perhaps it’s simply time that’s brought this, or perhaps it stems from a need to maintain intimacy while having a child, but nowadays she enjoys a bit of premeditation.

She calls him upstairs, but it’s not for a minute or two that she hears his footsteps up their old staircase.

He still looks a little tired.

_I’ll fix that._

“Mikasa what are you…?” He looks at her, clad in a robe, her bare legs peeking out from the hemline.

Wordlessly she unbuttons his shirt, pressing kisses on his jawline the way she knows he likes as she pulls the shirt away from his shoulders and discards it on the floor. She lets her hands linger on his muscled shoulders, enjoying the way he twitches beneath her fingertips, as if her touch alone can send him into a fit of passion. She sits him down on the edge of the bed and wordlessly unties her robe, letting it fall to the ground.

His eyes widen considerably.

“What do you think?” she asks coyly, loving the shocked expression on his face and the increasingly visible outline of his cock in his pants.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he grabs her and pulls her into his lap. He grabs her hair and roughly slants his mouth over hers, his teeth pulling at her lip, a hand grabbing at her lace clad breast.

She groans at how rough he is, how she can feel his desire in his touch. She grinds herself against him, whispers his name into his ear as he kisses down her collarbone and across her breast.

“Levi, hold on,” she says as he slips her breast out of the bra and takes her nipple in his mouth, letting his teeth gently scrape while his tongue lavishes attention on her.

“I–” she’s cut off as she shivers at the cool sensation of his breath against the wetness left by his mouth. This isn’t what she’d planned. She’d wanted to put on a show for him, to slowly peel away her beautiful lingerie while he’d watched in awe  “I wanted to–”

“I want you for my birthday,” he grunts shortly before he picks her up and tosses her on the bed.

He kisses down her stomach, lingering where he likes until he’s between her legs, kissing everywhere but the skin her panties cover; beneath her navel, her hipbones, the insides of her thighs, even the slight curve of her ass and it has her breath coming in gasps. She didn’t expect this, didn’t anticipate begging for him like this, but sometimes even the best laid plans need to be reconsidered.

He pulls away the lace of her expensive panties and licks at her, all the way from below her opening to her clit and she can’t help but moan loudly.

“Fuck,” she clutches at the sheets, “I was going to–”

He licks her again and she’s cut off by his tongue on her clit again.

“This is better,” he says before he licks her again, “you taste so sweet,” he says breathlessly, “sweeter than cake.”

She gives up her plan entirely and threads her fingers through his hair, working her hips up against his face until he has her coming hard up against his face.

Her heart is beating quickly, like it’ll come out of her chest as he takes off his pants. She can hardly move, the hazy, pleasure-filled bliss of her orgasm still overwhelming her as he pulls her underwear aside and pumps inside of her without even taking them off. He lifts her legs over his shoulders so she’s wrapped tighter around him, her body laid bare as he thrusts almost frantically inside of her until completion.

Afterward she takes off the fancy lingerie, if anything just to feel him with her entire body, have his skin pressed up against hers, his heartbeat thrumming against her own in the quiet afterglow as he runs a hand through her hair the way that she knows he likes to.

“Thank you for this,” he says quietly after a few moments.

“Of course,” she says quietly.

She knows that this meant a lot to him. Neither of them are one for grand gestures or proud declarations, but it’s these little things that matter. The tiny, special things, that she uses to communicate just how she feels for the man who changed her for the better that tell him how much she needs him.He doesn’t say it, but Mikasa knows from the sweet look of contentment on his face that this is the best birthday he’s ever had.

“You should get more of that lace, it makes your ass look great,” he says crassly.

She smiles and hits him jokingly.

“So rude,” she laughs.

“Whatever, you know it’s true, don’t try to be coy.”

“Mm,” she hums, “I’m glad it had the desired effect.”

They dress for bed and she tucks herself under the covers while he props himself up against the headboard the same way he has done every night for the last eight years.

He turns off the lamp and kisses her on the cheek.

Before she falls asleep, Mikasa thinks to herself once again that she’s happy that Levi was born.


End file.
